


Transatlantic

by Nellblazer



Series: Transatlantic [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Captain America: The First Avenger, Dancing, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Jealousy, Military, Period-Typical Sexism, Protective Steve Rogers, Super Soldier Serum, World War II, pub
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 19:43:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19363105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nellblazer/pseuds/Nellblazer
Summary: Prompt: ‘Be safe, if you can be’Summary: After Peggy rejects Steve, he finds company in you, a British Brigadier who is more than meets the eye.*Please do not replicate my work without my express permission*





	Transatlantic

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Cap 2 Challenge by @justsomebucky and @imhereforbvcky
> 
> Pairing: Steve x Female Reader (with surname. First name is your own)
> 
> Warnings: Angst
> 
> (Possible proof reading errors)

Striking out with Peggy was the worst thing that had happened to Steve.

One stupid misunderstanding and she’d frozen him out. He was just staring at the map on the wall with a sense of melancholy, not even fully appreciating that he’d got Bucky back.

“That’s a sour face,” came a female voice from his right. “Chewing on a wasp?”

He turned around to see you, in a different kind of uniform, wearing pants and a Brigadier’s sash. Had you got those on by mistake or were all girls adept at kicking ass like Peggy over in Britain?

“Sorry?”

“You look a little glum,” you smile kindly. “Anything I can help with?”

“No, no I’m good. Thank you,” he blinks in bewilderment. “Uh…sorry if this is rude but…umm….”

“It’s the threads, isn’t it?” you look down and laugh. “Confused more than my fair share of Yanks lately with it. I was in the women’s auxiliary engineering corps but there was a bit of an accident you see.”

Something in Steve’s brain started clicking. He was told the British had a supersoldier of their own. He was told the serum went wrong when they tried to give it to their candidate…

“You were there, when Erskine visited?” he fully turned around to give you his full attention.

“Yes,” you say sheepishly. “They’d gotten some complete moron to design the chamber for our candidate which started breaking down when they switched it on. I tried to intervene and fix it before it exploded but instead….”

“Are you like me?” Steve whispers.

You look around yourself, checking to see if anyone was watching before lifting the desk behind them up and over your head like it weighed nothing before setting it back down, “The thing blasted apart and I got hit with the needles directly. The serum went straight into my blood system along with a dirty great shock from the electricity.”

“That’s why you were made a Brigadier?”

“I’ve proved myself in a couple of reconnaissance missions whilst Erskine was moved to the USA,” you were almost getting ready to defend yourself it seems.

“No no no, don’t mistake me, Ma'am. I think women can beat the Sam heck out of Nazis same as us. I’m just impressed.”

You seem to assess him for a second before holding out your hand which he takes and notes the very firm grip.

“Pleasure to meet you Captain Rogers,” you smile.

“And you too Brigadier….?” he fumbles.

“Darling,” you raise a chiding eyebrow. “And no jokes. I’ve heard them all.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Steve grins. “Nice to meet you Brigadier Darling. I think we have a briefing soon. We’d best go.”

“Wouldn’t want to miss Hetherby’s twenty minute introductions,” you roll your eyes.

It was when Steve seated himself next to you and caught your secret faces that you were pulling for his amusement during the meeting that he realised his bad mood had vanished.

 

**

 

He saw you again in the library, reading up on French geography maps with a phrase book resting next to you. You were furiously making notes as well as drawing people’s photographs towards you sporadically.

You must be co-ordinating the French resistance with allies across the channel from the way you kept moving pieces on a map.

“Ghastly business,” he overhears two lieutenants nearby who keep giving you shifty glances. “They should leave the fighting to men. Dollies are good for making things and manning the phones but combat? I think someone’s having a bally good joke at our expense.”

Steve bristles a little, striding over to see the two shocked soldiers staring back at him and taking in his sheer bulk.

“Hello there, Captain Rogers,” they both shake his hand. “Can we do something for you?”

“I’d like to tell you that I think you’re being mighty rude to your Brigadier.”

“She’s not  _my_  Brigadier, old lad,” one of them laughs. “She’s just a jumped up factory girl. Women’s auxiliary is just something to give them a sense of purpose, you know?”

“I think you should shut your mouth very quickly,” Steve uses his full height to tower over them. “She could knock you into next week.”

“You have to admit though, it’s not right giving them notions of fighting in wars. They’d get themselves killed,” another tries.

“They have just as much right as us to try.”

“It’s not the natural order!” one starts raising his voice.

“Here’s an order, Diggleston,” you pop your head around the partition. “Bore off and take Smythe with you. I’m sure you have a No Man’s Land mission to plan.”

“Ma'am,” they both mutter before scuttling off.

“I’m sorry you had to hear that,” Steve feels a little embarrassed.

“You don’t need to defend my honour, you know?” you smirk, leaning against a bookshelf. “They’re allowed to grumble. Keeps their heads clear when they vent.”

“Oh, I….sorry,” Steve blushes. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“You’re rather sweet. I’m used to it though. You can’t lead troops well if they’re all your friends.”

“I suppose,” Steve thinks about it, although he feels a unit would work better if people  _were_  friends. “Seems a bit sad though.”

“You’re not usual, are you?” you regard him. “It’s nice. Refreshing actually.”

“Likewise,” Steve returns your smile.

He finds himself staring at you and quickly tears his gaze away so he doesn’t appear rude. He feels like he’s floundering for something to say and he  _wants_  to say something so he can keep talking to you but he doesn’t have a good excuse.

“Riveting as this is, I really need to get back to work,” you chuckle to yourself. “Thank you for coming to my aid.”

“Do you need any help?”

“Actually…..yes. You could help me work out who to send to the Luxembourg base. You’ve seen how Hydra operate first hand.”

He spent the rest of the day drawing up mission plans with you and laughing about the differences in cultures and that little pang of longing started to grow in his chest.

 

**

 

“You’re getting rather cosy with Brigadier Darling,” Peggy says during a meeting with Colonel Philips.

“She’s been very helpful with the plans for the Hydra bases,” Steve says, wondering why her tone is so bitter.

“I bet she has,” Peggy huffs. “By all accounts you’re getting on famously.”

“She’s a nice gal,” Steve shrugs.

“And does this one throw herself on you too or does she go further?”

“Agent Carter, that’s enough,” Steve says firmly.

She goes quiet, probably knowing how far she just went. Steve doesn’t understand how she could be so callous to him, almost shoot him and then be angry he was spending time with you.

“Oh speak of the devil,” she mutters.

You walk in, placing a board of marked locations up, casually moving a heavy desk with just your big toe so you can set it down.

“Morning chaps,” you smile brightly. “So Captain Rogers is going to take out the Hydra bases and we have plotted the most feasible route. My contacts in the French resistance will take out the border ones which leaves Rogers’ team less to mop up.”

“And what team is this exactly?” Peggy puts her hand in the air.

“The team he’s putting together,” you point at Steve.

“I have people in mind,” Steve nods.

“I feel safer already,” Peggy rolls her eyes.

The meeting ends and Peggy leaves quickly. You approach Steve watching her retreating back.

“Bit of history there?”

“Yeah,” Steve sighs, rubbing the back of his head. “I thought we had a thing. Some dame threw herself on me and I was trying to push her away but Peggy saw and thought I was being a cad.”

“Well that’s a tad unfortunate,” you grimace. “I don’t take you for the loose type.”

“I’m not. I’m a one gal kinda guy….if gals ever give me the time of day that is.”

“Must have been difficult being shorter than your peers. Oh yes, I read your file. For what it’s worth, you’re a wonderful guy. You needn’t be worried about girls paying you attention.”

Steve felt his face grow hot and he coughed awkwardly, “Listen, the guys I’m selecting…would you come along and help me?”

“Uh sure. Rowdy bunch I take it?”

“Oh they sure are,” Steve laughs. “Plus it would be nice to talk away from this place.”

“You mean see me out of uniform?” you smirk.

“I..ah….uh…”

“I’m just joshing with you,” you pat him on the shoulder. “I’ll see you later, Captain.”

 

**

 

He’s waiting at the pub with Bucky, nervously clutching his drink.

He’s had another bad encounter with Peggy where she gave him the frostiest reception he could possibly have. Even Bucky noticed how bad it was.

“Your luck with women,” Bucky snorts.

“Hey, not like she went for you either,” Steve retorts.

“Yeah but my luck might be changing,” Bucky sweeps his hair back. “Well hellooooo.”

Steve looks up and his jaw drops.

You’re walking towards him in a figure hugging blue dress. He hasn’t ever seen you in anything but your uniform so he’s completely blown away.

“Hi there, can a guy buy you a drink?” Bucky swoops in, using his best charming face.

“A man can but  _that’s_  the man I’d like to be talking to,” you point at Steve.

“Wait…really?” Bucky whirls around. “Little Stevie?!”

“Yes,” you side step him. “Sorry, old chap.”

“Oh my god, I’ve become you,” Bucky looks at Steve, completely lost and Steve tries not to feel too bad.

“You look beautiful,” Steve smiles.

“I scrub up all right now and again,” you shyly look at your dress. “Are you buying?”

“Of course,” Steve flusters, getting your drink for you. “So this is my team. Team this is Brigadier Darling.”

“And what a darlin’ she is,” Dugan wolf whistles.

“Do you wanna be wearing that drink, sweetheart?” you challenge him.

“Oo fiesty,” the guys laugh.

“Hey hey, settle down,” Steve calls. “Sorry about them.”

“Stop apologising,” you playfully nudge him in the arm. “Told you, I’m a big tough girl.”

“Tough huh?” Bucky regains some of his swagger. “Show me.”

You just wink at Steve before lifting the chair that he was now sat on with him on it.

“Oh my god!” Bucky grips the wood for dear life whilst the others fall about laughing. “Put me down! I’m sorry!”

You comply, trying to hide your grin.

Thankfully no one tries to be the big man any more. That means Steve is free to get to know you better.

He’s not been this relaxed in a while. You’re so confident and knowledgeable that the conversation just keeps going and going with barely any breaks. Steve doesn’t feel like he has to try, like he has to pretend to be something he’s not. He’s free to be himself.

When you excuse yourself to the restroom, Bucky quickly comes over, “How are you doing this?!”

“Doing what?”

“That dame is so sweet on you. How are you doing that?!”

“We’re just talking,” Steve says puzzled.

“And she’s into that,” Bucky claps him on the arm. “You have girls all over you now. This is a goddamn miracle.”

“Buck, I’m just getting to know her. I’m not expecting anything.”

But he  _was_  kind of hoping for it to develop. He was really enjoying your company and he felt like he got on better with you than he did Peggy. Guess he was just enamoured for the first lady to ever pay him attention rather than knowing her too well.

“Hold onto her,” Bucky nods as you come back. “That’s a grade A dame right there.”

“How’s the chinwag?” you fold your arms. “My ears were burning.”

“Sorry?” Steve blinks.

“Means you looked like you were speaking about me. Hopefully favourable.”

“Wow she’s too smart to hoodwink,” Bucky laughs. “Good luck Stevie.”

“Sorry,” Steve shuffles nervously, looking at you and hoping his friend didn’t put you off.

“You apologise one more time, I’ll make you do laps around the pub,” you shake your head smiling.

“Sor-…..god I wish I could get drunk.”

“Just dance with me,” you hold out your hand. “Call it getting to know the allies.”

“Oh no,” Steve pales. “Oh no I can’t dance. I never learned how. Nobody wants to dance with the asthmatic kid.”

“Well….now they do. Time to learn,” you grab his hand, pulling him to the dancefloor.

He sees Bucky flash him a thumbs up as he goes and all the new recruits make a noise that suspiciously sounds like ‘wahey’.

“Oh god,” Steve says out loud when you put his hand on your waist, take his shoulder and clasp his other hand in yours.

“You’re never too old to learn, Captain,” you smile warmly. “Now, an easy dance to learn. Move your feet like you’re creating a square. Left foot first, other meets it then step to the side. I’ll follow you.”

Steve feels like an idiot at first, messing up his footwork a lot and nearly standing on your toes but you’re incredibly patient with him until he gets the rhythm down. He gets to the point where he can look up at your face as he does it and you look so serene and so beautiful. He swears he was moving through a dream.

“I’m proud of you,” you beam at him.

He gets confident and attempts a twirl. You humour the effort, ducking under his arm and back again, giggling slightly.

“Someone’s getting brave,” you note.

“Sure am. I have a good teacher.”

The music is getting slower, everyone coupling up around for the final dance before last orders. A lot of the soldiers would be leaving for mainland Europe tomorrow.

“Come with me,” he says suddenly.

“What?”

“Come with me on this mission. You’re strong, you’re intelligent. We need you.”

“I have to keep helping the French Resistance,” you say wide eyed.

“Please. We ship out tomorrow and I…I’m sweet on you.”

“I like you top,” you hold him a little closer. “Speak with my superiors. Maybe they will allow a transatlantic platoon. I can’t put in the request myself. I need to be needed, if you understand.”

“Well you are….needed that is,” he blurts out.

“Then make the request and I can maybe teach you some other dances in the downtime.”

“I’d like that.”

There’s this moment where you stop dancing together and his hand moves from your waist to the small of your back. He makes the bravest decision of his life and cups your cheek with his freehand, bending down to kiss you.

You taste like berries and he’d be desperate to explore that further if his entire squadron didn’t just stand up and clap.

“YEAH!” he hears Bucky whoop from the back of the pub.

“I am so sor-”

“Shut up,” you laugh, turning round to flick the V’s behind you. “They’ll get what’s coming to them when I put itching powder in their drawers.”

“Now that would be a funny start to the morning,” Steve kisses your cheek.

“Last orders!” comes the call.

“We’ll meet you tomorrow,” Bucky says knowingly.

“Good because I’m gonna walk the Brigadier home,” Steve puts his arm around your shoulder.

He steers you out into the cold night, taking his jacket off and putting it around you.

“Thank you,” you pull it tighter. “I imagine it’s a little warmer where you grew up.”

“Actually it’s about the same,” Steve laughs. “Less rain though.”

“Maybe I’ll see it sometime.”

Your eyes are sparkling so brightly as you reach your door. He feels mesmerised by them.

“Maybe you will. Maybe I’ll show you where I grew up. Take you to the movie theatre.”

“I’d like that,” you smile. “Good night Captain.”

“Good night, Darling.”

You hesitate on the door handle for a second before turning round and flinging your arms around his neck, pulling him into one of the most passionate kisses of his life.

“I look forward to our mission,” you break away. “Good bye.”

“Bye,” Steve says stupidly, in a bit of a daze.

He watches you go in the door and just stands there for a moment, wondering how someone like you could be interested in him, of all people. He’s not going to question it though.

He can’t wait to turn in tomorrow and ask for your transfer.

He skips most of the way back to barracks.

 

**

 

“Denied?!” Steve cries. “Why?! I gave such a big recommendation!”

“They say it’s not necessary having  _two_  supersoldiers on one mission. It’s not 'using all our resources correctly,” you look down.

“But…but I ship out today.”

“I know. So do I. In fact, I ship out in an hour. They want me in Calais to disrupt the German occupation.”

“What?!” Steve feels his stomach drop. “An hour?! That’s not fair!”

“I know, Steve. I know. I think it’s a bally ridiculous idea. What good am I stuck in one country when you’re taking down the most important part of Hitler’s subdivisions? Ludicrous.”

“Come with me anyway,” Steve says desperately, taking your face in his hands.

“I’ll get court marshalled,” you bite your lip. “I might get shot for desertion even.”

“I hate this,” Steve rests his forehead to yours.

“Me too. I finally get to know someone who isn’t a colossal hooper and this happens. Just my luck.”

“I’ll come back for you,” Steve promises. “The second I’m done, I’ll join you in France. I swear.”

“You’d better, Captain Rogers,” you rub your nose against his a little. “The idea of courting one of these morons is frankly abhorrent.”

He laughs despite the situation but he was filled with dread inside.

He spent as much time as possible with you for the next hour, making more and more promises as the time went by. He was trying not to think about what would happen if neither of you made it through the war.

Then it was time to escort you to the airfield where a plane would drop you behind enemy lines. Steve stuck with you then too.

“There she is,” you gesture to the plane. “Built that one myself. Sturdy girl, she is. Hasn’t got a name though.”

“Sarah,” Steve says. “My mother’s name.”

“Sarah….Sarah it is,” you nod, looking grim. “I bloody hate flying.”

“You’ll be okay,” Steve leads you over and puts your meagre luggage in the cabin. “You’re tough.”

“Steve I…”

For the first time, you’re stumbling over your words. He can see at that point how much you cared for him and he was humbled by it.

“I know,” he holds you tightly.

“Here, take this,” you pull your necklace over your head, a thin leather cord with a pewter cross on it before handing it to him. “I don’t exactly have a photograph to give you to remember me by if…if….”

“It’ll be alright,” he tries to say earnestly.

“Righty-o then,” you laugh to cover up your sadness. “Time to go. Look after yourself, Steve.  **Be safe, if you can be**.”

“Right back atcha,” he strokes your hair back. “I’ve still gotta take you around New York after all.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

Then he’s kissing you, kissing you so hard he starts getting dizzy. Eventually the pilot’s 'ahem’ causes you to break away.

“Goodbye Captain,” you give him one last kiss before climbing into the plane.

“Goodbye Brigadier,” he steps backwards, saluting you as the propellers start and then…

Then you’re going down the runway and he watches you lift off into the afternoon sun.

_I promise I’ll come back to you._

 

**

 

When Steve awoke in 2011, he avoided ever looking up what happened to you.

He kept your necklace, wandering around the modern streets of New York and sometimes he would talk to it like it was you. He took it on a tour of his old home and told himself it was almost fulfilling his promise but it ate away at him inside to think about what could have been.

One day it all got too much for him and he sat down at his computer with the notes stuck all around it to help him use the damn thing. With a shaky hand, he typed your name into the search bar and hit enter.

A biography of your life along with a photo of you appeared on his screen.

He’d almost forgotten how you looked in the years since he’d left. Now he remembered those bright eyes and that expressive smile. You were beautiful.

Then he read the list of achievements.

You’d helped the French to mount counterattacks against the German occupation before heading back to London, only a day after he’d left to hit Schmidt’s final base. He’d been so close to you and not even known it.

It also said you led the D-Day campaign, fighting your way onto Normandy beach and through the countryside to liberate Northern France. Your work with the Resistance helped secure some of the crucial towns.

“Atta girl,” Steve found himself saying out loud.

After the war ended, he found no more mention of you. Did you survive? Did you live a normal life?

“Need some help?” Maria Hill pokes her head around the door, obviously seeing his frustrated face.

“Just trying to find someone I used to know,” Steve sighs. “All mentions of them vanish after the war.”

“Here, let me try. I have more clearance than you,” Maria perches next to him, doing things on the screen that Steve had no hope of catching up with.

“Says she went into Project Excalibur after the war which was a superpowered spy network,” Maria reads the file. “Then…..oh my god.”

“What?” Steve sits up straighter. “What is it?”

“She’s alive,” Maria blinks. “More than alive. She’s not even aged. Look at this.”

She draws up a photo from 1997 showing you in a pant suit with a lot of young recruits, almost like a school classroom picture.

“How?”Steve croaks out.

“Nobody’s ever known how the serum works,” Maria explains.

“And she was an accident. She wasn’t meant to have it so it might be different for her than for me.”

“There’s contact details,” she points out. “Would you like me to ring her?”

“Oh god, I…uh…what do I even say?” Steve puffs out hard. “It’s been seventy years. She’ll have moved on.”

“Just call her,” Maria types the number into a phone and hands it to him. “You’ll always regret it if you don’t.”

Then she walks away, leaving him with a ringing phone.

“Hello?” you answer and you sound exactly like Steve remembers. “Helloooo?”

Steve realises he hasn’t answered, “Hello Brigadier.”

“Briga…..what? Who is this? I’ve not been a Brigadier for decades.”

“What are you now?”

“A General. I’ll ask again. Who is this?”

“Steve.”

“Steve who? There are many Steves.”

“Steve Rogers.”

The line goes quiet for a while.

“Captain? Captain is that you?!”

“It’s me,” he starts smiling despite himself. “It’s really me. I’m so happy you’re still alive.”

There’s complete silence and he’s worried you’re incredibly angry at him.

“You’re late, Captain,” he hears the warmth in your voice. “I had to win the war without you.”

“I’m mighty sorry about that. I got frozen for a few….decades.”

“I looked out for you every day, Steve.”

“I know. I know. I still have your necklace.”

“You do?” you sound surprised.

“Always, never took it off,” he leans back in the chair, feeling more at home talking to you than the past few weeks of being in the S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters.

“So about that promise?”

“Sure I don’t have some husband to contend with?” he jokes.

“Could never find the right man to settle with,” you joke back.

“Take tomorrow off. I’ll have my Director send a plane for you. I think it’s time I showed you New York.”

“I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.”


End file.
